


Communication for Soulmates

by Elf_Kid



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fluff, Megamind Month, Soulmate AU, shamelessly self-indulgent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 21:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elf_Kid/pseuds/Elf_Kid
Summary: Whatever you write on your arm appears on your Soulmate's arm as well.





	Communication for Soulmates

When you write something on your arms, the marks appear on the arms of your soulmate as well.

This is known: the soul-bond does not begin at birth: it is only possible with both souls have reached a certain level of maturity.

No one knows what triggers the bond. No one knows how or why it appears. It is not restrained by distance, by language, by contact… but everyone knows that a soulmate is true love, however improbable it may seem. 

Some people develop the mark as young as 14; others begin to find their Soulmate’s marks on their skin when they’re in their 20's, 30's, even 50's. Some never get a mark at all. 

In some countries, people bare their arms openly, to better show their art and facilitate the finding of the soulmate (who will of course match). In most of the northwest hemisphere, especially the United States, baring one’s arms in public is considered extremely taboo, even obscene: a cultural norm born of cold weather, left over from outdated arranged-marriage traditions and the strict rules of Puritanism.

* * *

Megamind never wrote or drew anything on his arms. There was no point: if he had ever had a soulmate (which wasn’t guaranteed) they had no doubt perished young, lost to the black hole with the rest of his home-world.

He was never more surprised than the day he discovered a line of colors (_black, white, pink, red, yellow, purple, orange, green and, when he looked closer, a shade of blue close to that of his own skin_) on his left arm while getting dressed one morning.

His first thought was that it must be a bruise- except that he hadn’t hit himself, it didn’t hurt, and the tidy, circular segments of color didn’t actually look like a bruise at all.

His second thought was that he must have spattered himself with paint, except that he had been in the Lair, wearing long sleeves and gloves, and he hadn’t been anywhere near the paint in three days.

His third thought was that he needed a plan.

* * *

Roxanne Ritchi was not obsessed with finding her soulmate.

She didn't decorate her arms with new doodles every day the way some of her friends from middle and high-school claimed to, nor did she spend an excess amount of time or thought looking for a new mark and trying to determine if this or that dot was a freckle or a drop of ink–-

But that’s not to say she wasn’t interested.

Every year on her birthday, Roxanne took a box of special colored ink-pens (_given to her by an aunt for her 15th birthday as a right-of-passage type thing_) and drew a multicolored pattern on her arm. She was careful to make bright, clear lines and use a variety of colors– both light and dark: she’d heard too many stories of people missing their chance because they used a shade of ink to close to the color of their Soulmate’s skin, causing the marks to go unnoticed.

Every year, the ink lingered under her sleeves for a full week until she finally scrubbed it off properly with the special ink-removing soap. Nothing added, nothing changed.

No Soulmate.

Until.

The day after her 22nd birthday, Roxanne woke up to find that her right arm was covered in patterns of black ink. (_Was her soulmate left-handed?_).

Near the wrist was a pattern of tiny, unfamiliar symbols arranged in a spiral. Below that, a set of Chinese characters. Then a message in Arabic. Then a question in German, then French, then Spanish. _******你是如何生存的？ كيف نجوت؟ Wie hast du überlebt? Comment as-tu survécu? ¿Cómo sobrevivise?**_

Finally, close to her shoulder, she could read the message clearly: _**How did you survive?**_

She found translations for all of the marks except the ones closest to her wrist.

_ **How did you survive?** _

* * *

It took three weeks of communicating at cross-purposes before Megamind figured out that his Soulmate (_who was, as it turned out, English-speaking_) was in fact native to planet Earth.

He felt… The realization… It felt like losing his people all over again.

It _hurt_.

He’d known, of course, that even if she (_they had confirmed each others pronouns within two days of establishing communication_) was also interested in starting a family, one couple was not enough to rebuild a population, even with cloning technology.

He also knew that it was probably– safer– for both of them this way. The world was not kind so a solitary blue alien, and he could very clearly imagine what people would do if they saw more. _An_ alien was an oddity; _Aliens, _plural, were an invasion or an infestation to be destroyed with extreme prejudice for the good of all humankind. He and Minion had been stockpiling weapons and improving security at the Evil Lair since the soul-bond had appeared, for just that reason.

Part of him, some small, cursed part of him, was actually, secretly, a little bit relieved.

* * *

Roxanne wondered, sometimes, about his first love.

Reading between the lines, Roxanne could tell that he’d initially thought that she, his Soulmate, was a certain childhood sweetheart or previous girlfriend who <strike>hadn’t been heard from since</strike> died in some sort of accident or natural disaster years ago.

It was fairly common in this day and age for people to date before they made contact with their soulmate, and really it would be silly to be jealous of a girl who had died, but.

But.

Roxanne wondered if she would measure up to her Soulmate’s first love, the girl he had lost. She wondered if they would still have been soulmates if the other girl hadn’t died, or if she would have ended up alone.

But there was nothing to be jealous about.

* * *

Mostly, it hurt. He was alone on this planet, he and Minion were completely alone here, and when they died all that was left of his planet, all that was left of his parents’ legacy, would die with them.

_He'd known that for years, but having hope, having a chance and then feeling it ripped away once more in the cruel hands of fate made the facts all the harder to bear. _

Also. There was the matter of his actual Soulmate. (!)

Megamind had somehow become bonded to a human. She would expecting someone of her own species. Probably hoping for someone tall and square-jawed, with good hair and lots of money.

What if they met, and she couldn’t stand to look at him? What if she was horrified, or angry, or disappointed, or scared when– _if_ they met in person?

* * *

Roxanne had asked a few times about meeting in person. Each time he wrote a note saying that, for now, it was impossible.

She understood, really. She did. Based on their first communication, where he had asked** How did you survive?** in so many languages, she suspected that he was from another country (_most US citizens are not bilingual_). He wrote in English fluently enough, but perhaps he was less comfortable with the spoken language?

In any case, if he lived in another country, it could take a lot of time and money before he was able to visit her, or before she was able to visit him. She understood. So she took the hint and topped asking him to meet in person.

Roxanne gave him her phone number instead.

* * *

When she gave him her phone number during one of their “evening chats” (_sessions in which they would lock themselves in their rooms and exchange notes, sharing jokes, doodles, poetry, and little incidents from the day with the sort of markers that could be easily wiped away to make room for more notes_), he wasn’t sure what to do.

She had a Metro City area-code. Megamind hadn’t expected that.

He knew he’d mislead her, allowing her to believe that he lived overseas in some far-away country, but he hadn’t actually expected to find out that they lived in the same city.

He wondered who she was

* * *

Two days after she’d written her own phone number on her arm (_two days of worry and nervousness, because what if really he didn’t like the sound of her voice, what if she said something wrong when he called, what if he never called at all, what if he didn’t ever want to see her, what if…_), Roxanne got a text message from an unlisted number:

**My Queen, shall we continue our correspondence?**

She blushed, smiling in delight: this was how her Soulmate liked to ‘greet’ her in their evening chats. Now they could send messages anytime… and now that she had his number, she could call him.

* * *

“Ollo?” She’d called when he was in the middle of building a weaponized tunneling vehicle. Somehow, he hadn’t expected her to call

_“It’s me. I mean, this is Roxanne Ritchi, I mean… can you spare a minute to talk with your Queen?” _

“I always have time for you,” he said, making his voice low and smooth. “So, my only Soulmate, did you say you’re name was Roxanne?”

He already knew her name of course; he’d tracked her down almost as soon as he had her number. But being able to talk to her, being able to say her beautiful, luscious name out loud, to her…

_“Roxanne Ritchi,” _she said._ “I’m an investigative reporter with the KMCP8 Newstation. What’s your name? What do you do for a living?” _

It was hard to believe they’d been bonded for months, yet she still didn’t know his name._  
_

“I-” How was he supposed to answer? “Roxanne, I–”

How was he supposed to tell Roxanne Ritchi, the smart, witty, beautiful reporter, the woman who had twice discovered his Evil Scheme early and had to be taken hostage, who he’d seen flirting with his most hated rival following both those occasions– how was he supposed to tell her that her one and only Soulmate was a (skinny, blue, big-headed, short, freakish) notoriously unsuccessful Super Villain?

“I’m really not that interesting,” he whispered. “And Roxanne, my love, I’d much rather talk about you.”

_“Come on, don’t tease,” she giggled. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours. What’s your name?” _He’d drawn this out as long as possible. He could try to delay again, make it last a little bit longer, but sooner or later she would get sick of waiting; sooner or later she would figure it out.  
  


“My name is Megamind,” he said, his voice holding more confidence than he felt. “Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy. Roxanne will you– do you still— wont you be my Queen?”

* * *

“Is this a joke?” Roxanne demanded. “It isn’t funny!”

“It’s no joke,” <strike>her soul mate</strike> <strike>Megamind</strike> the beautiful voice on the other end of the phone replied. “…If you don’t believe me, you can look at your left wrist.”

“I will!” she snapped, ending the call. She’d called on impulse during her lunch break, called instead of texting for once despite the risk of waking him because of the time-difference. 

She’d just wanted to know what his voice sounded like.

She hadn't expected him to admit to being a career criminal. How are you supposed to respond to finding out that your Soulmate is a super-villain?

She grabbed her purse and fled to the privacy of a stall in the Lady’s Room to role up her sleeves. (_She was upset, but she wasn’t about to get undressed in public._) On her arm, in the same handwriting her soulmate always had, was the message. 

_ **My name is Megamind.** _

* * *

They met in person for the first time that very evening.

It went infinitely better than Megamind thought it would. _It went about as well as could be expected._

He wondered if she wished that he were human. _She wondered if he wished she were blue._

He wanted to know what she thought of his career. _She wanted to know why he chose it._

He wanted to give her nice things._ She wanted to give him a home._

He hoped that she would get along with Minion. (Soulmate or not, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she couldn’t.)_ She delighted in the thought of how her family would react <strike>if </strike> _when_ she took him home for Thanksgiving._

He offered to conquer the world so that she could truly be Queen. _She offered to help him rework his PR until he didn’t have to fight the world._

They kissed for the first time that night.

_It was… wonderful._

* * *

The debate continued on if Megamind should give up Villainy, or if Roxanne should become his ‘Partner in Crime’.

_In the end, both were happy with the decision._

They were married three months later– after what Megamind described as a torturously long engagement. 

_Roxanne’s family felt that it was scandalously short– but since they were hoping the groom would die in a lab accident before the wedding, they don’t get to vote._

Roxanne and Megamind Ritchi went on to do great things together.

(_One of their greatest achievements was successfully creating– and doing an unusually successful job at maintaining– a happy family._)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on tumblr. Please look at the amazing art by @rosetherandomreblogger. https://rosetherandomreblogger.tumblr.com/search/megamind%20soulmate%20au
> 
> Also. COMMENTS ARE EXTREMELY WELCOME! I crave the feedback.


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